


Love Me Like You Do

by khorybannefin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Porn With Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:53:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23042806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khorybannefin/pseuds/khorybannefin
Summary: The reader is a witch under a soul contract, but her spitfire ways land her somewhere unexpected with the King of Hell.
Relationships: Crowley (Supernatural) & You, Crowley (Supernatural)/You
Comments: 7
Kudos: 70





	Love Me Like You Do

Love Me Like You Do

Pairing: Reader + Crowley

Author: khorybannefin

Author Gender: Female

Reader Gender: Female

Summary: Reader is a witch under a soul contract. Problem is that she's really good at what she does and Crowley needs a little variation on his team. He promises her she can keep her soul and he won't stuff a demon inside her so long as she works for him. And that means doing everything he asks.

Warnings: smut, profanity, blasphemy, dom/control over reader, light torture, dubcon

"Come on, love," Crowley growled, gesturing at the bronze bowl in front of you. "Don't hold out on me. You know that never ends well for you, now does it?"

You grimace at his words, knowing he's right and hating it anyway. You cut the pad of your thumb with a blessed knife and blood drips into the bowl, coating the other ingredients there. Just to be perverse you speak the incantation in Enochian instead of Latin. Reď smoke pours from the bowl and wraps itself around each of the hex bags on the table.

"There. It's done."

"And you're sure they'll work?"

You roll your eyes. He always asked, like he was waiting for her to fail so he could collect on their deal. She hadn't failed yet and he seemed disappointed every time. He collected the bags, passing them to a team of demons with instructions on where to stash them for whatever he was doing. Then he turned back to you, eyes narrowed. He'd flinched at the incantation and now you'd pay for it.

"I think we need to have a little chat about that slip up there, don't you?"

You were cleaning up the spell components and trying very hard not to pay attention to him. You could feel him staring through you. Much like the angels he could hear entirely too much of your inner thoughts. That mental bit of "fuck you" you'd just pulled was going to have consequences, and you knew it when you said it. Still, there was so little you could do to fight the situation you were in that you took every opportunity. Just so Crowley didn't think you were owned.

"The incantation was perfectly fine. The bags will work. Just because you don't like it doesn't mean it doesn't work. If you don't like it then don't stand over me next time."  
Crowley's hand came down hard on the table, making everything jump. He got up in your face, voice threatening and standing much too closely.

"I think you've forgotten who is in charge of you, pet. Shall we revisit our deal?"

"You revisit whatever the fuck you want," you snapped. "I agreed to do whatever you asked, and I have. Your weird language bigotry has nothing to do with what you asked me to do. Specify the language you'd like me to limit my work to next time if you're too much the coward to listen to words of actual power!"

You had advanced on him, your anger at your situation and his attitude seething. You always had a smart mouth and being basically enslaved to the King of Hell had not improved it. You were tired. Tired of being forced to work for him, to cast and cast all day long for horrible shit you didn't even want to know about. The stain of everything he did with your power stayed on your soul, not his. You could feel it, and the weight of it was heavier than the burden of the collar he basically had around your throat. That said, maybe that "real power" jab went a bit far.

"Oh you think that's real power do you? I will be only too happy to show you what real power is."

Pain lanced through you, stealing your breath and your strength. When your vision cleared you were panting on the floor, feeling the waves that had crippled you ebbing away. You got your breath back and your eyes narrowed. Enraged you shot to your feet.

"You vicious, petty excuse for a King. Does that make you feel like a big man? Does it? Go ahead. Hurt me all you like. All you're doing is pissing me off."

"Oh, tough talk. But I did that with just a thought. Would you like to see what I can do with a word?"

"Oh for fuck's sake, get on with it. I've got other shit to do. Torture me and go away, coward."

You turned your back on him, but not before you saw how your continued defiance had riled him. So you couldn't win free of him. You were stuck where you were, but you didn't have to like it and you certainly didn't have to make it easy. Besides, you knew how much power Crowley wielded. Standing up to him, insulting him and belittling him, made you feel powerful too. He needed you for his plans. You needed to keep your soul, stained as it was. You were sort of anchored to each other. 

His hand locking on your upper arm was a shock. He yanked you back against him, the hard line of his body against your back. Your eyes widened and his voice purred in your ears, low and dangerous.

"You always know just how far to push. It takes balls. I appreciate balls. In fact, I think I might actully be enjoying your little outbursts. However, I can't have these little spats in public."

The world spun before your eyes and you were in the little suite behind his office. You pulled away from him and he let you go. You started backing away from him, wary.

"What are you doing? Why am I here?"

He chuckled. He started taking of his suit jacket, hanging it on a ready hanger. His tie came off and he started rolling his cuffs up.

"See, love, your little spitfire routine does it for me. However, the minions can't be allowed to think that I'll take such things from a little human witch who is supposedly under my employ. As far as anyone else cares, you are here being punished for your smart mouth."

You blinked. What the hell did he mean "does it for me"? You had a sneaking suspicion and cut a glance quickly down. Oh yes, it did it for him all right. You yelled at him and that's what happened? The King of Hell liked being abused?! You were too stunned to even laugh. You had thought your self trapped in this horrible slavery. Your bucking back at his authority the only power you had, and a power rush by itself. Here he was offering you an even greater hold, by showing that your bitter tantrums caused a rather intense arousal. You thought about it and came to several conclusions. 

Firstly, seeing him in that state because of you was a rush you never would have expected. His arousal seemed to cause your own in response. Maybe Hell was wearing off on you. Secondly, Crowley wasn't a demon, he was one of the Fallen. His power was second only to Lucifer himself in Hell. How often did anyone dare talk to him as you had? You were betting next to never. And thirdly, had you ever seen Crowley with a woman? Even casually? You couldn't remember. Imagine how pent up he had to be. Probably worse than you, and you weren't even certain how many years you'd been down here.

"So," you asked, a small knowing smile now playing across your face. "That's what everyone else believes. Why am I here, Crowley? What do you want from me?" 

You had backed up against the arm of a leather sofa. You put your hands behind you and leaned on it. The soft folds of the ritual robe you had on accentuated your front as you sat back.

"Oh, you wicked girl," he said, noticing the look and the position. "I think you know damned well what I want, my little pet. And from the look of you it seems you're not entirely opposed. Is that the case?" 

He'd advanced on you and stood not quite touching you. His hand reached for your face and tipped your chin up to look at him. You couldn't help it. Your grin was absolutely smug. From this distance you could smell hormones and heat radiating off him, and see his very obvious excitement marring the lines of those skillfully tailored slacks.

" Jesus Christ, Crowley. Are you going to kiss me or what?"

He attacked you. There was no other way to describe it. He fell on you like a starving thing, and his mouth on yours burned, sending fire ripping through your blood and concentrating in a hot ember between your thighs. Immediately your body tried to quench the flames, but it only seemed to burn hotter.

The Demon King had your upper arms in a bruising hold, his lips driving down onto yours as he held you still. His lips demanded surrender, and you fought him, knowing it would fan the flames. He growled against your mouth and flat out bit your bottom lip, hard. You gasped and he chuckled, as he dove his tongue between your lips and took over, stealing every moan, every breath. You stood up in his grip and shoved him off you.

"You don't own me. You'll get what I damn well give you."

"Oh, love, you are begging for it." His eyes were dark and he was breathing hard. So were you for that matter, but you smiled at him anyway, sneering a response.

"I might be, but I'm not the one with a crippling hard on right now, and you couldn't take it from me if you tried."

"Let's test that theory, shall we?"  
The danger in his voice, the threat, shot more heat and adrenaline racing through you. It hit that primal part of you and you actually turned to run. You didn't make it two steps, forgetting that the sofa was behind you. You tripped over the arm you'd been leaning against. It was just high enough that your feet lost purchase on the floor. 

Crowley was behind you, his hips against your ass, pinning you to the leather. He grabbed the back of your hair and pulled you up.

"I think you may have overestimated your control of the situation, my dear." He ground his prodigious erection gainst your silk covered ass. "You have not, however, over estimated the effect you have on me. But let me assure you," he whispered," I always get what I want." 

He didn't give you time to take a breath before you felt his hands grab fistfuls of the silk robe you were in. The fabric tore effortlessly, and the feel of him ripping it from you flooded the valley between your legs. Cool air hit your fevered skin and he chuckled.  
"Well, well. How have I never noticed you're naked under this little piece of fluff? The things you miss."

His hands spread across your hips, his fingers sinking into the soft curves around your waist. In another century you'd have been pure art. Voluptuous was the word. Not fashionable anymore, but Crowley didn't seem to think so.

"Mmm, so delicious. Modern girls have forgotten what real women look like. Men have gone to war for women like you." He pulled your hips back hard, your bare sex rubbing against the hardness in his pants.  
"You have no idea how much I'm going to enjoy this."

"You talk too damned much." You ground back against him. He groaned.

"I think you're right."

His hands moved from your hips around to your stomach. He pulled you up, your back against him, as he continued up, filling his hands to bursting with your breasts. He licked a line up your neck and you turned your head, letting him kiss you brutally while he mauled you. He squeezed to the point of pain, tugging and twisting at your nipples until you were whimpering and struggling in his arms. When the kiss broke you moaned his name.

"Hellfire, woman, you're exquisite." He groaned as he heard his own name, falling with such lust from your lips. Roughly he turned you around, his mouth taking over the torment of your breasts. His hands reached down, gripping your plump ass and lifting you up onto the arm of the sofa. Your feet didn't touch the floor and you had to open your legs to balance on that edge. He stepped into the gap and reached deft fingers down to explore your sex. You were clinging to his shoulders as teeth and tongue savaged you, little sounds of encouragement breaking from you. But when large sure fingers stroked through that burning heat you nearly strangled on the moan.

"Sweet little pet." He kissed you as he slowly ran his fingers through your wetness and circled, but didn't touch, your sensitive clit.  
"All of this for me?"

"Not for you!" You gasped, trying to avoid kissing him, no matter how badly you wanted to. You were already holding onto him, your hands moving over the fine cotten of his dress shirt almost compulsively.  
"It's just been awhile." 

He laughed into your neck as his hand roughly swiped across you and you moaned, legs trembling where they met his thighs.  
"Never lie to a liar, pet."

Placing one hand in the middle of your chest he shoved you backwards. Your shoulder landed on pillows, your head against the seat of the leather sofa. Your hips were still high grounded on the arm, your feet dangling. You had nothing to hold onto, no way to get up, but you had a good view as he stared you down, smiling, slowly removing his shirt.

"Now be a good girl and moan for me again."  
He sank between your legs and you would have pulled away from him had his hands not held your thighs pinned open. They said the Devil was silver tongueď and you believed it was physical as well as metaphorical. The things he was doing with his mouth were simply inhuman. You struggled against the pleasure, crying out, clutching desperately at empty air as his tongue traced lazy patterns through every sensitive inch of you. He drove into you, swirling his tongue maddeningly over your clit and plunging inside you, filling the emptiness, but not enough. He teased and tortured, bringing you to the edge and backing you back down time and again until you were sobbing, begging for him.

"I didn't quite hear that love. Say it again."

"Please, Crowley, finish it!"

"Finish what? Be specific, pet." He was rubbing slow circles around you and you were writhing against his hands. You took a deep breath, determined not to show any shame in this. You looked him straight in the eye and enunciated.

"I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me until I can't think. I want to feel you come inside me while I come apart under you." He groaned, yanking you upright.

"Hell yes." 

He kissed you savagely, as though he intended to devour you. You could taste yourself on his lips and it just made you hotter. Your hands and his were both fighting to get his pants off. He'd barely dropped the fabric to the floor before your hand was hard around him, squeezing at the base and pulling to the tip, milking the precum from him. He groaned again and his hips pushed forward, assisting your strokes. You slicked him with his own wetness, making him move easier in your hand. You loved the feel of him. Silky skin sheathing an unbearable hardness, filling your hand with his desire for you.

"Damn it woman, don't make me tie your hands." You could feel him struggling to maintain control. In that one final act of agression you whispered in his ear.

"Then fuck me already."

He clutched at the soft flesh around your hips and thrust into you, making it halfway before having to back out. You were drowning in wetness, but you hadn't opened enough to take all of him at once. The rush left a heavy stinging pain that swiftly added to the heat he'd been managing. His second stroke buried him in you and both of you clung to each other, breathless at the pleasure. You tilted your hips forward, hitching your knees up above his hips and wrapping around him.

"For god's sake don't stop."

He didn't really need the encouragement. He didn't bother with starting slow. You'd both been tortured too long already. The angle was incredible, but you couldn't get leverage. He was in control of that. His hands gripped your ass and shifted you. Now you were clinging, arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he tried to hold a steady pace. It was good, so good, but it wasn't getting quite there for either of you.

"Crowley..." you whined, and he understood. He cursed and pulled out of you,. You made a noise of disappointment. He just looked at you.

"Bend over."

A chill ran down your spine, but you did as ordered, turning and bending over the arm of the sofa. He stepped up and drove into you and that did it. The both of you moaned now, in time with the strokes, his speed and strength increasing. He was hitting the absolute end of you with every thrust thighs slapping against your ass hard and fast. He shifted his hips, angling upwards, and that frustrating heaviness began to burn hot again. You could feel the tremors seeping into your muscles and everything started to lock. Your palms were flat on the sofa cushions and your head started to toss.

"Harder! Oh, god, fuck me I'm so close!"

"Christ on crutches!" Crowley blasphemed as he drove hilt deep in you, rubbing his balls against your clit and you arched, screaming his name as he fucked the orgasm out of you and came hard right behind you. You collapsed, hanging nearly boneless bent over the couch, knowing that between your orgasm and his you'd probably wrecked the leather. Crowley heard the thought and pulled you up, turning you to face him as he pulled free of you.

"I will ruin every piece of furniture in this damned office, and Hell to pay if any of them say a fucking word." He kissed you, softly, for the first time. "I think we defnitely need to revisit our deal."

"You're already holding my damned soul hostage. What else could you want?"

"Darling I would take your willing body over your bitterly contested little soul forever. I can find another witch."

"Tempting. Let's ruin your desk and maybe I'll be willing to negotiate."

"Lucifer save me I love wicked little girls."


End file.
